


Snow, What's A Meme Page?

by PagebyPaige



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rival Meme Page Owners, Fluff, Im fuckign serious, Indirect Love Confessions, M/M, Rival Meme Page AU, this was wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 02:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11175369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PagebyPaige/pseuds/PagebyPaige
Summary: Being back at Watford is nice. Really nice. Until Simon's (creepy) roomate starts (creepily) going through his stuff. Probably plotting.





	Snow, What's A Meme Page?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gothgf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothgf/gifts).



When Simon gets back to the tower after dinner, Baz is already there. He's sitting at Simon's - now tidied - desk, and... scrolling through his laptop? If Simon wasn't such a giant clutz, he might find out what Baz is looking at, but _no_. Instead, he trips over a pile of his clothes, banging into the bed and definitely drawing attention to himself.

Baz looks up, his face showing confusion and a bit of sheepishness along with smugness at the fact that Simon got caught. _Oh Crowley,_ Simon thinks. _What did he find?_

"Hey Snow?" Baz's tone lacks the smugness from his face.

"Yeah?"

"What's a meme page?" Simon nearly laughs, and he nearly cries.

"Baz!" He exclaims, fake scandalized. "I thought you were smart."

"I _am_ smart, Snow. Smarter than you, if that's even an achievement," Baz fires back.

"Well _clearly_ you're not very _educated_ if you don't even know what a meme page is." Simon draws out his words, pouncing on the opportunity to make Baz feel dumb.

"Ah, I, uh, of course I do. I have one!" Baz hurries out, tripping over his words.

"Sure you do." Simon says.

"Don't doubt me, Snow. Perhaps what I _meant_ to ask was why yours is so horrid as to barely constitute a 'meme page'."

"Really. And you're implying yours is better?" Simon allows his voice to lilt, trying to sound smart like Baz.

"That's exactly what I'm implying, brilliant of you to catch on."

"I expect to see the web address on my desk before curfew tonight, _Basilton_."

With that, Simon walks back out of their room, taking his laptop with him and slamming the door. He has to make sure his meme page is fucking _amazing_ if he's to beat Mr. I'm-Somehow-Good-At-Things-I-Didn't-Even-Know-Existed. (It's happened before).

He spends the evening tweaking and re-posting, making sure his page is the damn best.

Back in the tower, Baz has his own computer open on his lap, working rapidly. Simon Snow will not defeat him in anything. Ever. Except maybe cuteness, but he'll never admit that, so it doesn't count. Damn Simon and his freckles, Crowley.

After a quick Google search on what exactly a meme page is, Baz has begun. He works for hours, building and perfecting a _meme page_. The things he does for Simon Snow.

He jots the URL down on a piece of note paper and slaps it onto Simon's desk just before their door opens and Simon comes crashing through it. He eyes the paper on his desk.

"The competition begins tomorrow after breakfast," Simon announces. (Of course, nothing can happen until Simon's had his breakfast).

The moment sunlight filters through the windows, Baz and Simon are up, grabbing for their respective computers, Simon lugging his down to breakfast, Baz sequestering himself in their room with his, neglecting breakfast for the time being. By the time breakfast has ended, Simon is hauling himself, his laptop and several cherry scones back through their door. Immediately, he pulls up Baz's page on another tab, and Baz does the same on his own computer.

Simon hums occasionally in approval, and then starts posting, rapid-fire. Baz follows suit.

"Okay, what determines the winner?" Simon asks suddenly.

"Most followers by the end of the month?"

"Done. You're on, Pitch."

Their follower counts grow equally steadily as the month drags on, and everything seems like it's up to fate now. Simon is content to just sit back and watch - that is, until he sees some of Baz's "personal posts". The damn boy is now writing out (perfectly punctuated) posts about a crush. A crush. Baz!

Simon doesn't know what do with himself. Especially since this crush is a _boy_. He just wanted to beat Baz at something, he didn't want him to start crossing off his Reasons Why He Can't Like Tyrannus Basilton Pitch one by one!

The problem is, Baz's followers are _loving_ it. And Simon can. not. lose. So he pulls some lines out of his own crush reserves. As the days tick down, he knows he's getting more and more obvious, but Baz doesn't seem to notice, so everything's okay. On the last day, Simon pulls his final card. _Fuck, guys, it's so hard to have a crush on your roomate._ Not three minutes after he's posted it, Simon receives an anonymous message. _I have the same problem._ Simon has to remember how to breathe. It's not Baz. It can't be Baz. But he needs to know. So he fucking goes for it. He replies to the anonymous message. _You should kiss him._ The response is practically immediate. _You think so?_ Simon takes a deep breath. _If he's anything like me, he'll love it. Go for it._ Then, he closes his laptop and sets it on the desk to wait and see if his suspicions are confirmed, and his fantasies fulfilled.

Probably five minutes later, not that Simon's counting, Baz slinks through the door. He also sets his computer on his desk, and then stalks his way over to Simon's bed. Simon's eyes follow the curves and edges of his face. Then, Baz is closer than ever before. And then his hand is on the back of Simon's head, tangling in his hair. This is really happening. Baz's lips are meeting his, gently, then rougher. When the need for air finally overwhelms their newfound need for each other, Baz pulls back.

"I can't believe a meme page was the reason I finally got to kiss you." And Simon bursts out laughing.

 

 


End file.
